Kisslude
by translucency for summertime
Summary: He was just at the right height that his head fell at my collarbone. It seemed to me like the perfect fit. Secretly, I had really wanted him just to stay the way he was. Matt/Mello
1. Prelude

9/11/08

* * *

**Prelude**

A lot goes on at Wammy's. A lot of which most people don't think I pay attention to.

They're wrong.

I do pay attention. Enough attention to know that the reason Mello is so temperamental and foul-mouthed around every—well, everyone else at least—is because he's desperate for attention. Roger's attention, L's attention. My attention.

I know that the reason why Near doesn't bat an eye towards Mello's flagrant hatred for him, is quite frankly because he isn't smart enough to know better. Oh sure, Near's IQ is **way **up there; past Mello's, past mine. That's just what his capacity of knowledge is: his book smarts. His common sense is another matter entirely.

I know that I will never be in the final two, vying for L's title. I'm not too stupid or too self-absorbed not to see that.

Yeah, I play video games. Yeah, I might **act** like I'm totally oblivious to the rest of the world. Yeah. I'm not.

And because of that, I knew exactly what was going on when Mello stormed into our shared room, blonde hair swinging madly and eyes threatening to brim over with tears. It had something to do with Near. And it most definitely had something to do with L.

I kept my eyes trained on the Gameboy Advance DS held in my hands. I had to keep up the allusion, of course.

Mello plopped down on his bed and clutched his head in his hands. I waited for him to tell me what was wrong, refraining from acknowledging he was there. When nothing was said, I looked up.

What I saw was Mello, angry tears coursing down hot cheeks, staring pointedly at his feet.

"What's the matter?" I asked, shocked at how upset he was. I thought that it was something trivial, like L had visited and yet again had spent more time with Near. I would never mention the fact that he nearly never spent any time with me, and that Mello was lucky for that. He was still in the game. I was very clearly out.

Mello's head swiveled up, eyes burning into mine. "L is dead."

I wasn't surprised, to tell you the truth. Since L first began his participation in the Kira case, it was a good possibility that Kira would kill him. L had said that Kira was his rival in intelligence and a threat to the society of now and of the future.

Though Mello might have been sad about L's death, as they did have a close bond, I didn't think that it would make him react this angrily.

"Well…" I began slowly, sliding the off button on the Gameboy and placing the Gameboy down beside me on my bed, "…there was always a possibility that L would die in the Kira case. Are you really that surprised?"

"Just because I knew he would go and die doesn't mean I can't be sad about it," he replied sourly. His face screwed up and he bit into his bottom lip.

I tread carefully. "Is that the only reason why you're so upset?"

Mello threw himself off the bed and towards his closet. He grabbed a duffel bag off of the closet floor and began shoveling his clothes into it. I watched him for a few minutes before commenting.

"Mello." I wasn't going to let him ignore me, not this time.

"Did L choose his successor?"

Mello froze. And then in a blink of an eye, he began to shovel his things in more furiously, now having moved on to his dresser.

He zipped the full duffel bag and threw it onto his bed.

"**Mello**," I said heatedly. _You are not going to ignore me, god dammit. Not this time._

Mello turned around quickly and glared at me. "It wasn't **you**, if that's what you're worried about," he spat.

His remark stung, but I didn't waste a moment for my response. "I'm not worried about the stupid title or the stupid status, Mello. I'm worried about you," I told him, standing up.

Mello closed his eyes and turned away from me again.

I moved towards him, and then gathered him in my arms, pulling him into a hug. I pressed my lips on the top of his head, his chin resting against my collarbone. "Don't block me out," I murmured into his hair.

Mello shuddered and took in a breath. His entire essence reeked of chocolate, even his hair. I inhaled. He exhaled, bitter chocolate wafting up to my nostrils.

"He didn't choose," he mumbled in response.

I pulled away from him, astonished. L was so efficient, to think that he hadn't gotten around to choosing his successor before he actually died was unthinkable. Entirely inefficient, entirely un-L-like.

Mello groaned in protest when I pulled away. I quickly resumed my previous position, but now looking him in the eyes. "What did Roger say then?" I asked.

"He said that Near and I would have to work together as a team. That only then would we surpass L," Mello replied, and I could have heard the sneer in his voice had I not been looking at his lips.

"Well, are you?" I pressed my lips on his upper ear, and then moving down as if I were tracing the shell of his ear.

Mello leaned into my touch. "Like I'd ever want to work with that little shit," he replied, perfectly calm.

"What are you going to do then?" I breathed against his earlobe.

"I'm leaving," he said shortly. I withdrew my lips and looked him in the eye again.

"Are you sure?" I asked. A scared Mello was never good, or something to base an escape on. A gave him a reassuring squeeze, trying desperately to convey that whatever he chose I was fine with. And I was. It was the truth.

I found that with Mello it was hard for me not to tell the truth. Even my allusions slipped past me around him, just as his attention-deficit fell away from him whenever we were alone together. We brought out the best of each other.

"I'm sure," he replied.

I looked at him determinedly. "Then I'm coming too."

"No, Matt," he protested, finger curling my fiery red hair. "You have to stay here. I don't want you to leave because of me."

"Why else would I have stayed?" I asked.

Mello looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"L is dead. Wammy's was built so that L could find an heir. No L, no Wammy's," I told him, "I wouldn't have stuck around long."

I grinned at him.

"Well," I amended, "Not unless you needed me to."

Mello smiled slightly but looked down anyway.

"What's wrong?" I asked. His eyelashes veiled his eyes and his hair hung down into his face. He buried his face into my chest, and I suppressed a chortle.

He had always been so adamant about how he wanted to grow taller. I had been taller than him for as long as we had known each other, and he always had hated it.

He didn't seem to be hating so much it right now.

He was just at the right height that his head fell at my collarbone. It seemed to me like the perfect fit. Secretly, I had really wanted him just to stay the way he was.

"I don't want…" he drifted off, voice muddled by the chest in his way, "…I don't want you to feel like you **have** to stay with me. I don't want to be a burden."

"Are you crazy?" I asked, lifting his chin so that we met eyes.

He flushed slightly, but didn't say anything. "You are my best friend, Mello. I love you," I said. "I will follow you until the ends of the earth. Unless…unless you don't want me to…"

"No!" he protested. "I want…I want you to stay with me. I want…I like you just the way you are, Matt."

I smiled, and then pulled him into a kiss.

* * *

1/3


	2. Interlude

9/12/08

**Interlude**

We had left that night. As we drove out of town, Mello was deathly quiet. He either alternated between looking back at the town, that was slowly becoming a black speck, in the passenger side window or in the vanity mirror on the back of the sun shield. As my eyes flickered over towards him, I could see that he was an ashen pale and that his eyes were still bloodshot from crying.

Wammy's was our home for so many years. It was hard for him to just pack up and leave. He had grown attached.

More attached than I had, in fact. Mello had been there for god-knows-how-long, while I had arrived at Wammy's when I was thirteen. He had been there for forever. Wammy's was the only home he ever knew. It was hard to leave your only home behind in a matter of minutes.

I should know.

I've done it before.

My fingers stumbled around the control panel until I found the dial of the radio. I cranked up the song that was playing on the radio so that the silence between us would seem less awkward.

Things usually weren't awkward between Mello and me. We knew each other. We understood each other. But now, I knew that something had changed. This was different. Far more different than just being "school chums" who had slowly progressed into secret lovers.

Very slowly progressed into lovers.

The half-kiss that afternoon had been one of few. You could count how many of those we'd have on your hand.

It wasn't as if we were inexperienced. I had previously had a couple of girlfriends and even a boyfriend. Things had gotten pretty physical with Jake, although it was more of a learning experience than a love. With Jake I had learned how to kiss someone with a tongue and lip ring, how to give a blow job, and even learned that I didn't like to bottom that much.

Mello had Annie Whats-her-Face last year, I remember.

Going from a relationship with Jake to a sort-of-relationship with Mello was a big step for me. I found myself holding back more than I would have earlier. With Jake, I was carnal, harsh, hard. With Mello I found myself gravitating towards being more tender, sweet, and loving. I took my time where I had rushed before.

Our relationship was so pure.

My eyes flickered over to Mello. We were now a good two hours away. He was dozing quietly, head leaned back against the headrest and arms folded gently across his chest. My lips turned up into a smile.

The gas light came on. Flicking my headlights on, I turned off of the highway and onto a side road.

I pulled into a gas station and turned the engine off.

We would be on the way to the States tomorrow. Mello said that he knew some guys that would help him form his association to catch Kira.

I was skeptical.

I don't usually like the sort of guys that Mello gravitates towards. Gang bangers, the Mafia, and all sorts of other incriminating persons. My sweet Mello could be so callous sometimes. And I shudder to think what kind of influence those sorts of characters have on him.

But we were going to the L.A. nevertheless.

Mello moaned and tossed his head to the side, so that his face was facing me. My hand was holding the latch to the door, but I moved it to cup Mello's cheek. He smiled in his sleep, which in turn made me smile. I leaned down and kissed the lower corner of his mouth softly.

He opened his bleary eyes and deepened the kiss, sucking on my lower lip. Turning my head, I captured his entire mouth and prodded my tongue into his mouth tentatively.

A battle of tongues emerged from the innocent kiss, and suddenly he was fisting my hair and I was grasping the back of his neck.

It was as if a ton of red and gold fireworks went off in my mind, their heat rushing to stomach. Mello's fingers trailed down my hair and traced my ear, slowly drifting along the shell's outside before reaching my sensitive earlobes. I had tried to pierce my own ears years before, but when they became infected, I had let them grow closed. Mello pinched my earlobes until he could feel the nub of scar tissue that was still left.

We broke apart, gasping for air.

Mello looked gorgeous. His lips were cherry red and swollen to double their usual size. His hair was tousled and windswept, with his shirt askew on his thin frame.

_You're so beautiful._ I wanted to say it out loud so badly, but I knew Mello would freak if I did. He wasn't into the whole "I'm gay and proud of it" spiel yet, and I couldn't blame him. It's not easy. Especially if you're as self-conscious as Mello.

"Don't you have to get gas?" he teased. It wasn't until then that I realized I had been gazing at him with a dazed smile lighting up my face.

He chuckled, and I just rolled my eyes in response.

Later that night, around midnight to be more precise, after the gas had been pumped and we found a hotel, Mello and I laid in bed together.

I didn't force him to do anything he didn't want to. I made sure of it. There were two beds in the room, and when Mello had gone into the bathroom to brush his teeth I had staked my claim on the left bed. I was well underneath the covers and playing a quick game of Mario Brothers when he had emerged.

I flipped the game off and placed it on the bedside table. He walked over to the bed I was in and climbed in. I felt my stomach flip over and my palms become sweaty. He snuggled against me, using my shirtless chest as a pillow.

When he noticed how uncomfortable I appeared to be, he shied away from me and took the second pillow as support for his head. He sat up slightly and said, "I'm sorry…I thought that…I can go over in the other bed if you want…"

I couldn't help but smirk. I propped myself up on my elbow and reached for his hand, which was resting on top of the comforter. I interlaced my fingers with his and drew him close to me. He shuddered as he drew in a breath, and I blew softly on his lips.

Mello's eyes glazed over. I took the opportunity to lie back down on my back, and I rested his head against my chest once more. I turned off the television and then reached up to turn off the lamp.

The clock struck one. I looked down at Mello. I smoothed his rumpled hair and then trailed my fingers down to his lips. I brushed the tips of my fingers against his lips.

He looked so peaceful while sleeping. Like a blonde angel with his hair fanning out around his head. I closed my eyes tiredly. Knowing that he was asleep, I whispered, "I love you, Mello."

Faintly, I felt a pair of lips kiss my chest softly before I sank into a deep sleep.

* * *

2/3

I upped the rating to T because of the more heated kissing scenes. Thank you to those who reviewed. And to those who didn't: if you'd like to review this chapter, it would be much appreciated. D


	3. Postlude

**Postlude**

* * *

A year passed. Mello and I made it to the States and found somewhere to live, despite the fact that we were both still underage. I found a job at a local gaming store a pun that Mello enjoyed chuckling at time and time again which had decent pay, but never enough to make ends meet. Mello stayed at home, he couldn't quite pass for eighteen at the age of fifteen.

When the elderly lady on the floor below us realized that Mello wasn't going to school, we had to leave.

Another year passed. We had finally settled down in some remote area, just outside of a little town in Pennsylvania. Neither of us worked then. That was my favorite time of our now-five-year-period after Wammy's.

I would lay out a blanket, outside of our little shack, and Mello would light a few candles, and the two of us would stay outside for hours. We would gaze at the stars from dusk to twilight, Mello lying in my arms. I thought at one of those countless moments that this was where I wanted to be for the rest of my life. No matter where we traveled, no matter what the circumstances were, as long as I was with Mello I knew that everything would be okay.

The third year came and went. By this time, Mello had contacted his "friends" in the Mafia. We headed out to L.A. so that Mello could discuss what exactly their plan against Kira was. I remember asking coldly if the plan was against Kira because Mello truly wanted to do the world some good, or whether it was to beat Near.

"If I do beat the little shit in the process of saving mankind from Kira then good on me," he replied flippantly, eyes blazing, before he slammed the door on his way out of the room we were in.

Our "dark period", or so I referred to it as in my mind, continued throughout the fourth year and into the beginning of the fifth. I was supposed to help Mello do surveillance for some kidnapping he was planning. Of course, in cohorts with the Mafia, which I wasn't exactly thrilled to do, I'll admit. The way Mello carried on about it, however, was as if I had told him that I wouldn't help him because I hated him and never wanted to speak to him again. In the end, I agreed to help.

No matter what Mello said, I regarded the kidnapping as a success. Mello wasn't killed—that was the only thing I cared about.

"Are you kidding me?" Mello spat, nostrils flaring. His hair hung down in his eyes, covering the healing scar. For the past week he had hidden from me, not letting me touch him. His head shot up, revealing the red flesh. It began over his eye brow and continued down his neck, finally ending (as I had only found out when he had removed his shirt the night before prior to him coming back to our bed, for he had insisted on sleeping on the couch instead of me seeing his "ugly" scarring) at the top of his thigh.

"Why would I be kidding?" I responded softly, keeping my eyes on the younger boy as he stomped around the room (pacing, being an understatement). "I don't care what you look like as long as you have the ability to look, darling."

He made a face. "Darling," he grimaced. "You sound like such a girl, Matt."

"So what?" I rebutted. "I thought you liked that about me. Hell, Mello. I thought you liked me."

"Of course I like you, idiot," Mello rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid. All I meant was that the kidnapping was a complete flop. It wasn't successful."

"To you," I insisted.

"Fine," he admitted grudgingly, "To you."

I smiled and moved towards him, intending to give him a swift peck on the lips. He flinched and cringed away. "When are you going to let me love you again, Mel?" I asked, looking at his lips through hooded eyes.

"Never," he whispered hoarsely. "Never when I'm so deformed…when I look like such a monstrosity."

I held his wrist firmly and pulled him towards me. "You are not a monster," I told him before imprisoning his rebuttal in a kiss.

He didn't deny. He didn't have the chance to. Before long we were entangled in sheets, before falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

We flew to Japan a few days later. "This is the last thing you have to do for me, Mattie," Mello promised. "After this I won't ask you to do anything more concerning Kira."

I nodded. What I wanted to say was that I would help him until he was done with anything concerning Kira. But he wouldn't have had it.

It was another kidnapping. That seemed to be Mello's forte. First Yagami Sayu, now Takada Kiyumi. Both females, both near and dear to Kira, apparently.

It was now the morning before the ordeal was set to happen. Mello was still sleeping in our hotel bedroom, and I was sitting in the chair beside the bed, watching him intently. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was one of the most overdone clichés, I know. But it applied. He looked less frantic and less worried. Less Mello-like. The Mello that was asleep was too foreign from the Mello that I had come to know, and I wasn't sure that I liked this Mello.

I heard the tea pot begin to whistle from the kitchen. Sighing slightly, I got up to get it. I glanced back over at Mello before opening my door, hand lingering on the door knob, to make sure that he was still asleep. He was.

As I was pouring the tea into two cups, I heard a cough from the bedroom doorway. "Good morning," Mello yawned as he stretched out his arms.

"Good almost-afternoon," I corrected.

"Ugh. What time is it?" Mello asked.

I glanced down at my wrist watch. "11:54," I answered.

Mello's eyes flew open widely in alarm. "Why didn't you wake me up? We only have four hours until we have to get ready!"

"Four hours is plenty of time to get ready," I reassured him. I slid his cup of tea across the counter to his barstool. "Have some tea," I suggested.

He silently sat on his barstool and sipped at the tea. He nodded. "Plenty of time," he told himself quietly, not intending for me to hear him.

"Of course you do," I agreed before sipping at my own tea.

We sat in silence.

"Are you sure that we don't have anything to go over?" Mello asked, breaking the quiet. "No blueprints or camera locations or whatnot?"

"Nope, nothing at all," I replied easily. "Nothing to do but sit back and relax for a couple of hours."

Mello nodded. When his tea was finished, he stared at the residue in the bottom of his cup. "I hate this," he admitted.

"Hate what?" I asked curiously. I thought that our quiet moments were fine, soothing and relaxing as well.

"I hate the hours before I do a job," he said, "I hate feeling unprepared, as if I'm not ready for it. I hate being nervous."

"You'll do fine," I reassured. I stroked his unscarred cheek softly and kissed his forehead.

"I hope so," he murmured as he leaned into my hand.

"I know so."

And the dark period ended. All was well. I knew that it would be for a long time.

* * *

And then they die. The end. xD

Not so smutty, but I find that none of my ending chapters ever are. I am really proud of myself for ending this story on a happy note. The majority of my stories have really upsettingly sad endings. But hooray for this one.

Review if you'd like. I really would like it.


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